Off Balance
by MoiraQueen31
Summary: After the events in "The Promise" Slade continues to plan his revenge on the Queen family. Moira willingly invites Slade into their lives. How will Oliver and Thea respond? Moira/Slade with some eventual Olicity
1. Chapter 1

_Set immediately after "The Promise." This is where I would love to see them go in the rest of season 2. If you like it I might continue it. Let me know what you think :) Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow or any of the characters._

* * *

Karma smiled on Moira Queen. After the heartbreak of losing Walter, after the mess with Malcolm and her crumbled marriage to Robert, fate gave her Slade Wilson. The thought of his name warmed her like the rays through the window. She pressed the mug to her lips and pulled back the drape. Her eyes took in the garden and the spot between the trees where Slade kissed her last night. Magic lingered there even in the daylight.

Slade Wilson was different than any other man. On first glance he looked like he belonged at the helm of a pirate ship. The scars and the rasp made him intimidating and sexy. The eye-patch grew on her. He was larger than life.

Despite his apparent desire to pursue her Moira sensed his heartbreak over lost love was deeper than he let on. She wanted to heal him. Her instinct to sooth his battered body and soul drove away all her inhibitions. Only her connection to her children met as much to her as Slade Wilson.

Her children. She let the drape fall over the window and walked to TV. Thea suspected something but Moira resisted talking to her. She feared her daughter still hoped for a reconciliation with Walter; a ship long since sailed. The morning coffee tasted bitter.

She turned on the TV. The news program flashed pictures from her campaign. Oliver's face appeared. She had not seen her son in person for three weeks; not since the night he humiliated her in front of Slade. She missed him, but seeing him meant facing the look of disgust and disappointment he wore for her now. Part of her rejoiced that he stayed away. His presence would only complicate her already complicated relationship with Slade. She still missed him.

The news program switched to another story. Moira sipped the coffee and glanced at the grandfather clock. She only had a few hours before she had to deliver a speech on the steps of Queen Consolidated. Olivier might be there and that made her nervous. Slade might be there and that prompted her to schedule extra time to work on her appearance.

Pictures from a late night charity gala filled the screen. Moira half watched until she saw a flash of a familiar eye patch. She narrowed her eyes and grabbed the remote. Sound filled the living room. The reporter explained the charitable cause and listed several important attendees including Sebastian Blood and Mr. Wilson. The appearance of Slade at the same event as Sebastian did not bother Moira but the appearance of a leggy brunette on Slade's arm did. Shock set in. She stood.

The image on the screen showed Slade whispering into the ear of the young model. Last night! Slade Wilson kissed Moira and then slunk away to go to a party with some bimbo. The coffee mug hit the table with shut speed that liquid spilled over the side. Moira Queen left the room. The TV blared into empty space.

* * *

Moira pictured herself entering Slade Wilson's office for the first time under vastly different circumstances. She scolded herself for such delusions. As she bypassed Slade's secretary she vowed never to trust a man again.

Moira tossed open the door. Slade looked up from the computer. There was no trace of surprise on his face which worked to further infuriate Moira.

"Hey babe." He moved toward her with open arms.

"Don't."

Slade stopped. He grinned like the devil.

"No one will see."

"I came here to tell you from now on it's strictly professional."

Moira attempted to storm out the door but Slade moved with near supernatural speed.

"Wait, hold on. Whoa, come back here." He gripped her arm and forced her back into his office. She balked at being man handled.

"Take your hands off me." Moira glared at him. He matched her hot stare. Every inch of his frame emanated power.

"What happened?" He let go. Before Moira could answer the unbelievable occurred. The leggy brunette from the gala entered in his office. Moira scoffed.

"Excuse me a moment." Slade went back to his desk and picked up a letter. He gave it to the brunette.

"Thank you, Mr. Wilson. Let us know if you are ever in need of a political escort again."

"I will."

She left the room. Moira wanted to follow. She hoped her cheeks did not look as flushed as they felt.

"Moira, what is this all about?"

She said nothing.

Slade looked at the door.

"Oh, I see. The jealous type. I like that." He grinned again.

Moira ignored him. She moved toward the door but he caught her by the arm again.

Like the night before, he kissed her without warning or permission. Excitement and irritation shot through her. Ten minutes ago she had been convinced her epic romance was over. Slade proved her wrong in ten seconds.

"I thought it might compromise you to be at the same event as Sebastian Blood. Not to mention trying to explain me." Even though they parted, Slade stood close.

Moira tried to relax her shoulders but his proximity made that difficult.

"I stand in very real danger of having to explain you."

Slade put his hand on her shoulders and massaged until she relaxed.

"Anticipation holds me prisoner." He touched her face. She leaned in to kiss him but he held her in place.

"Don't you have a speech to make?"

Moira cursed. She looked at her watch. Slade took her hands and squeezed.

"You'll be great."

She exhaled and nodded. He kissed her goodbye and she left him alone in his office. Somewhere in the back of her mind she wondered what all of the electronic equipment along the walls and under the desk was used for. Slade Wilson was a man of some mystery; a mystery she wanted to spend a lifetime unraveling.


	2. Chapter 2

_Hi all! Thanks for reading. Not sure if anyone is interested in this story, but I decided to do another chapter. If I do more chapters I want to bring in Felicity, Oliver and Digg a bit more. They are my favorite characters (after Slade). I have a love/hate relationship with Moira... one thing I want to do is flesh her out. Oh, and for the fellow comic nerds out there the 'Italian magician' is someone very specific. Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

The applause and smiles from the audience convinced Moira to consider her speech a success. Slade stood in the middle of the gathering. His figure sliced the crowd like a pillar of sharp obsidian. He did not move, but his look inspired confidence. He inclined his head and Moira forced her eyes away from him. She swallowed and stored the image of him in her memory to explore later. If she dared.

Near the back of the edge of the pavement Moira saw her son. His posture and stance mirrored Slade's but Oliver seemed far away. The afternoon sun somehow blurred her vision of him like a raindrop on a freshly painted canvas. Oliver's ridged brow did not seem as severe as it might have had the IT-girl not been standing next to him. Her scowl annoyed Moira.

Despite what Oliver might have thought, Moira knew the name his blond assistant. She never placed any importance to it. The most painful experiences of Moira's life were secrets. She protected them with the ferocity of a lioness. The IT girl reminded Moira of things she wanted to forget. Moira's natural defense mechanism translated her need to forget into a mental block against Felicity Smoak.

Thea touched Moira's arm.

"Nice job, mom."

Out of the corner of her eye Moira saw Oliver and his IT-girl start toward the stage. The dark pillar in the center of the crowd had vanished. Moira's eyes swept over faces but Slade was gone.

"Something wrong?" Thea lifted to her toes and looked in the same direction.

"No."

Thea rolled her eyes.

"I like him, but not as much as Walter. Do you?"

When Moira looked at her young daughter she expected to see a reflection of herself. Thea's eyebrows lifted, and her mouth set as firmly as her resolve. Moira never caused mischief as a child. She saw more of her adolescent self in the IT-girl. The useful servant who hid in the background, unnoticed and uncared for. Moira felt a stab of pain, dulled by time and nearly forgotten.

Strict parents would have never allowed an attitude like Thea's. Moira had never been a strict parent, maybe that is why she often did not recognize her daughter.

Oliver stepped onto the stage. Moira appreciated his timing.

"Mother." It was not spoken as a term of endearment. He kissed her cheek. The light touch of his skin was arctic. IT-girl stood several feet away.

"And what is up with you two?" Thea folded her arms. "I swear, this family is falling apart and nobody cares but me."

"Nothing is falling apart, Thea." Oliver often talked to Thea in that tone. It was the tone of an annoyed other brother. Her son had many fine qualities, but lying was not among them.

"You're never around. I bet you didn't even know mom is going to hook up with Slade Wilson."

Oliver's clenched jaw formed a nearly perfect ninety degree square.

"What."

"Thea..." Moira glared at Thea, then turned to Oliver. "That's not true."

She had always been the Queen with a talent for lying.

Oliver's hands turned to fists.

"He is dangerous. Stay away from him." Her son did not look at her directly. He angled his body so his shoulder touched hers.

"First of all, what do you think gives you the right to tell me what to do?"

Oliver stepped back. She had his full attention.

"Secondly, not that it's your business, I've had a private detective following Mr. Wilson. In three weeks, the only dangerous thing he could be accused of is jay walking."

Oliver put his hand on Moira's shoulder. For the first time in her life she feared what her son might do.

"Oliver?" Thea's concern came out in a trembled breath.

"He's got you fooled, mom."

Moira pushed his hand away.

"Then prove it."

Oliver said nothing.

"That's what I thought."

The Queen mansion was littered with famous paintings, but only a few portraits from the regency era. The way Moira Queen lifted her chin was identical to a portrait of her great grandmother. When Moira Queen lifted her chin she set herself above the rest of the world, as if that simple gesture proclaimed her _the_ _Queen_.

"Excuse me."

* * *

As a little girl, Moira had not been afraid of the dark. She never asked her father to check the closet for monsters. She never suspected anything of being under her bed except a collection of outgrown socks. In her worst nightmares she stood in front of class. She was fully clothed and completely exposed. Laughter erupted from her classmates when the teacher announced her deepest secrets. His gaunt body stretched like an evening shadow over the school desks. His voice condescended without mercy. The sound haunted Moira into adulthood.

Moira Queen looked over her shoulder. Most feared the darkness that filled the streets of Starling City. She took comfort. Starling's darkness was gritty. She wished she could use the dark like a blanket of camouflage without suffering the soiling effects.

She opened the door. A young couple exited. Moira turned her face away. She escaped recognition. Only a few people were seated at tables and Moira inwardly thanked Slade Wilson for selecting a discreet place to dine. The concern he took to protect her campaign was endearing, but she suspected his desire to wine and dine her came from an ulterior motive. Did he want her or did he only want a piece of the mayor's office? The thought crossed her mind as she crossed the room.

Slade sat at a booth nestled in the darkest corner. A strange feeling overcame her, like she was on her first ocean cruise and did not have sea-legs under her.

Slade kissed her cheek. She wanted to linger under his touch. They sat. The table filled the space between them.

"I'm happy you agreed to come."

Moira picked up a menu.

"You didn't think I would?"

"I plan for every contingency, but one can't always predict the human element."

Moira glanced up.

"Very pragmatic. Sounds like something I would say."

Slade stretched across the booth. He rested his arm on top of the wood backer. Each time his chest filled with air his physical capability announced itself. Being with a man capable of undefined mastery filled Moira with an excitement she had not known for years. She tried to hide her pleasure by giving her full attention to the menu.

"I have an affinity for the pragmatic, especially in women. It simplifies things."

Slade slid the menu out of her hands.

"Let me order for you."

"Overconfidence will be your undoing, Mr. Wilson." She loved the cat and mouse game he played with her. He held the menu in his left hand but his other remained undisturbed. She wanted to rile him enough to make that relaxed arm move.

"You assume I can be undone."

The waiter interrupted. Slade not only ordered her favorite item on the menu, he did so in French. His body stayed languid even after the waiter left.

"Misplaced confidence?"

Moira dropped her gaze and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"You are just like my son. I bet women melt at your feet."

The brightness in Slade's face vanished. He removed his arm from the back of the booth and clasped his hands in front of him. He stared his hands with his single eye narrowed.

"I'm not like Oliver Queen. The women that matter consider me a friend only."

Moira put her hand on her chin. She placed her other on the table a few inches from his.

"Maybe you haven't met the right one." Moira grimaced.

She did not watch many movies and never bothered with TV. Of the movies she had seen, she detested what her daughter colloquially referred to as 'chick flicks.' Aside from being inane, the women only spoke clichés. The line she hated most of all was 'maybe you haven't met the right one.' Typically the silly heroin said this to the obtuse hero just as the audience began to doze off. The line was poorly hidden in ambiguity. The whole audience knew the woman was really saying, I'm the right one.

Slade looked up.

"What about you, Moira? Have you met the right one? Walter Steele?"

The name of her ex-husband sounded strange in the rasp of Slade Wilson.

"Having your husband kidnapped and tortured, even to save his life, doesn't exactly cement a relationship."

"He wasn't up to the task. I dare you to try that with me."

A guest of fresh air found its way to Moira. She inhaled deeply and tasted the faintest hint of jungle rain. The scent would forever be linked to him.

"You are a dangerous man, aren't you?"

Slade leaned forward and the fabric of his suit coat pulled tight around his shoulders.

"If you knew how dangerous you wouldn't be sitting here."

The rain scent made Moira picture a jungle leopard perched high in a tree. She liked the look in the eyes of large predators right before the kill.

"Wouldn't I?"

Slade reached across the space between their hands. His fingers brushed over hers.

"You are going to complicate my plans."

Before she could fully savor the physical contact the waiter returned with a tray of food. Slade was forced to let go of her hand in order to make room for the plates.

The restaurant was quite during the course of dinner. The warm lighting combined with the distinct rasp of Slade Wilson lulled Moira into a daze. Years had passed since she felt so contented, had such a time even existed. She listened to Slade compliment her and used her finger to trace the top of her wine glass. When he spoke of some political topic than impassioned him she leaned forward to absorb the full force of his meaning.

"Tell me, Moira. Who was he?" Moira took her finger from the wine glass. The abrupt question pulled her from the pleasant trance.

"Who?"

"The man who made you stop believing in love."

Moira picked up the glass. The liquid met her lips but she did not drink. She set the glass down. Slade watched her every movement.

"I recognize it in you because it happened to me too."

His admission pulled her back into that safe world of his. She felt protected. For the first time in her life she wanted to share one of her secrets.

"I know it wasn't Walter Steele. I doubt it was Robert Queen. It was before that."

Moira looked up at the ceiling. She remembered the report of the detective. Slade Wilson was everything he appeared, yet he had an air of mystery. Moira wanted to trust him, but dared not. She liked that he kept her off-balance.

"I was a stupid, naive girl."

Slade's lips parted. He held her gaze.

"He was an Italian magician. I was nobody. He might have loved me, if not for her."

"Her." Slade Wilson needed to say only that one word and Moira understood. His tone was the kind shared between to warriors who fought the same battle and received the same injuries.

"She was rich, powerful, beautiful. She told my fortune once. She said my soul-mate would betray me. She was right."

"Maybe it wasn't him. Sounds like the 'her' interfered. Stole him from you."

"I promised myself no other woman would ever..."

Moira touched the stem of the wine glass. She expected Slade to ask her to finish the sentence but she made up her mind not to. She liked him, and she feared scaring him away with the scale of her ambition. Slade grinned. The scar beneath his eye patch was more pronounced when he smiled.

"A promise you made good on. Until the heir to the Wayne fortune marries you are the richest woman in the world. You're already powerful, if you win the election you'll be unstoppable. As for beautiful..."

The way Slade's eye moved from her face down her neck line and over her shoulders made her acutely aware of herself. She felt as exposed as in her childhood dreams.

Slade shook his head.

"You can't win them all."

The discomfort she felt vanished. She did not want to give him the pleasure of seeing her react, but she could not help lift her chin.

"Is that so?"

Slade's lips formed a smug line. He leaned back against the booth once more, his arm laid across the backrest.

"At least I don't look like Captain Hook."

She knew she took a chance. Slade would either appreciate her candor or hate her. If took it in stride then he would prove himself worthy of the confidence he exuded. If she offended him then she would spend the rest of the night mourning the loss of what might have been.

Slade removed his arm from the booth and leaned forward. He gestured for Moira to copy the action. She did so with deliberate slowness. He showed no sign of what he was up to, and try as she might she could not completely discount Oliver's warning.

When his nose was only a few inches from hers he spoke.

"Come back to my place and I'll introduce you to my parrot."

Moira laughed. Walter Steele was a good man, but he had no sense of humor. Moira seldom laughed. She savored the feeling. In every moment she spent with Slade Wilson she found something new to keep close.

"As tempting as that sounds," she glanced up at him as she reached for her purse. "It's late and Thea will be wondering where I am."

She stood up and avoided his eyes. If he showed signs of disappointment she did not see. He followed her across the restaurant toward the door, but he stopped at the register to pay. She continued without him.

The streets seemed darker without people on the side walk. No headlights appeared from around the corner. Moira's driver waited on the other side of the street. When he saw her he tossed his cigarette to the ground. The tiny embers were swallowed up by the pavement. Moira knew she should not have wait for Slade. She knew should go straight to the limo.

She made up her mind to go and took a step forward.

"Moira?" His hand touched her arm. She stopped.

Slade scanned the area then pulled her into a protected corner in the ally next to the restaurant. She ended up with her back to the wall. The bricks were covered with the dirt of the city. She tried not to let the fabric of her clothes touch them.

Slade placed his hand on the wall close to her head. He leaned forward. Moira hated traps. She inched back and her clothes touched the dirt.

"Can I take you and Thea somewhere? My favorite place in the city?"

Moira looked toward the limo but she only saw the tail lights.

"Mr. Wilson-"

With his free hand he took her fingers and pressed them to his lips.

"You always call me that when I get too close." He let go. He took his hand away and backed into the darkness. Across the alley she could only see the outline of his form. Both his eyes appeared as dark patches.

"I'll ask Thea. Call me in a few days."

She thought she saw his head nod. He said nothing more. She took a few steps toward the limo. She paused and turned around. Slade was close behind her.

Moira Queen rose the top by trusting her instincts. Not many knew that the secret of Robert Queen's success should be contributed to his wife's unrelenting ambition. The city knew the facts of Moira Queen's life because of the trail. A few of them, like Mark Frances, discovered that Moira's instinct to protect what she cared about drove her to her actions. When Moira's instincts took over she could not stop them.

That fundamental part of her makeup was the reason she ended up in Slade Wilson's arms in the alley next to the restaurant. Instinct told her to kiss him, and she was prisoner to it. Slade kissed her back, as if instinct prepared him for what was about to happen. Moira's instincts conflicted within. She did not trust Slade but she wanted to.

She pushed him away and walked toward the limo. She did not look back. He did not follow. She had a few days before he would call again. She hoped by then her instincts could sort themselves out.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for reading and the reviews! There will be some major Oliver and Felicity screen time in the next chapter, I promise! _

* * *

"Slade, I'm sorry to keep you waiting." Moira flipped on the light switch when she entered the drawing room. The sun disappeared hours ago and dusk brought a eerie fog that scattered under the lamp light.

"It was worth the wait," Slade took her hands, "you look lovely."

Moira meant to reply but his mouth found hers. Slade's hands roamed over her shoulders and down her back. She pushed him away and gasped.

"Slade, please!" She smoothed away the wrinkles in her dress. "Thea will be down any second."

Slade grinned and then settled into the couch as if he owned it.

"You like it, Moira."

She scowled at him.

"Now," Slade ran his hand along the seat beside him. "Come here."

Moira folded her arms. Part of her wanted to obey. She resisted.

"Don't make me tell you twice."

"You conceded, infuriating lout." Moira dropped her arms and stepped toward the couch. He grinned and held out his hand. Moira was tempted to slap him across the face rather than give in.

"Mr. Steele is here to see you." The voice of the maid caused Moira to jump. She turned in time to see Walter enter the room. He stopped. Moira pulled her hand out of Slade's.

"I'm sorry, I didn't..." The bank manager looked as though he wanted to bolt for the door. Moira inhaled.

"It's quite alright. Walter, I'd like you to meet Slade Wilson."

Walter's shoulders straightened and he cross the room with his hand extended. Slade stood slowly. He took Walter's hand and put his other on Moira's shoulder. The action should not have made her uncomfortable but it did.

Walter's eyes briefly landed on the spot where Slade's hand fused to her. The tension in the room elevated.

"Walter, can I offer you a drink?" Moira moved out from under Slade's touch.

"No, thank you."

Her ex-husband's eyes met Slade's. They stood like two male grizzly bears about to engage in a battle over territory.

"Moira, could I have a word in private?"

Moira agreed and watched Slade. He waited about three seconds longer than he should have before he stepped toward Moira.

"Don't be too long." She gave him a warning glare but he leaned in and kiss her cheek. She watched him go then poured herself a drink. The liquid courage burned all the way down.

"What is it?" She asked.

Walter looked at the ground. She knew exactly what he was thinking. They had been divorced for a year but she could still read him like a book. Never did she hate him more than when he gave her hope that he might care. Both of them needed to move on. She knew that was Walter's thought as he looked back up.

"Felicity wanted me to tell you something. She said you probably wouldn't see her yourself."

Moira tilted her head to the side.

"She was right."

Walter scrutinized her, his eyes like narrow windows.

"She wanted to warn us-"

"Warn us?" Moira shook her head. Felicity Smoak told Moira not long ago that she did not trust her. The feeling was mutual.

"She thinks someone maybe trying to hack Queen Consolidated. She thinks they are digging for dirt to ruin the campaign."

"And you believed her?" Moira paced across the room.

"Why shouldn't I? She is highly skilled. Intelligent."

Moira clenched her jaw.

"Yes. I know. She found out about Thea. She told Oliver after I asked her not to."

Walter's narrowed eyes widened with the revelation. Moira leaned on the sofa.

"That warning sounds to me like a threat to go to the media herself. What she hopes to gain I couldn't say."

Walter ran a hand over his chin. He always did that when he was engaged in deep thought.

"I don't think you're right."

"That's not a surprise."

Walter avoided her eyes. He looked angry. She did not think he had the right to be. Moira walked across the room then stopped next to him.

"If you will excuse me, Thea and I have a date."

_Good_, she thought as she studied his expression. _I've wounded him_.

Moira was relieved that Walter exited before Thea descended the stairs. They missed each other by only a few seconds.

Moira looked across the hallway. Slade stood in the doorway of the ballroom. Darkness from the unlit room behind him draped around his shoulders. She wanted to apologize for the domestic argument. His eye reassured her.

"Alright, Mr. Wilson. Impress us," Thea said. She hopped off the last step and Slade offered her his elbow.

* * *

Moira adjusted the seat belt in the passenger seat of Slade's Lamborghini. Thea had squeezed into back seat. She leaned forward between the front seats. The motor audibly purred as Slade accelerated.

"This car is so cool!"

Slade only touched the steering wheel with the underside of his wrist. Thea's compliment prompted a small upward turn at the corner of his mouth. She remembered his mouth tasted as good as it looked. Moira glanced out the window. She tugged on the seatbelt again. For some reason she could not find a comfortable position.

"I am proud of it. Fully customized."

After a few seconds Moira realized it was not the seatbelt that made her irritable, it was the conversation. Slade and Thea formed a bond. The fact should have pleased her but instead it made her feel... old. Slade was younger than herself but that had not bothered her until now. She realized he could easily seduce a woman of Thea's age. Her suspicions about his motives in dating her bubbled to the surface.

"Would you like to drive?"

Thea gasped and then laughed.

"You would let me?"

In reply, Slade pulled the car off the road and into a gas station parking lot. A group of teenagers on the sidewalk catcalled. Thea hopped out of the car and exchanged places with Slade. The grin that appeared on Thea's face when she put her hands on the wheel reached from ear to ear.

"Mom," she faced Moira, "I totally like him."

Moira did not answer. Thea put the car in drive and pulled out onto the street. A small squeal of enjoyment emerged from her lips. Slade laughed. Moira felt his hand touch her arm through the space between the seat and passenger side door. Thea was enthralled in driving, but even had she not been she would not have seen the movement.

"You're very quiet." Slade leaned forward between the seats just as Thea had. His hand gently squeezed her arm.

"Just thinking."

"That doesn't bode well for me, does it?"

Moira turned her head so she could see part of his face with her peripheral vision. She held her tongue. Slade did not let go of her arm.

"If this is you two flirting it's really weird. Just saying." Thea's eyes swept over the rear view mirror.

"Take a right and pull into that parking lot."

Thea obeyed Slade's directions. Moira looked out the window. Slade led them to a deserted lot behind a back alley soaked with the familiar grit of Starling City. In this part of town Moira was not keen on letting her attractive young daughter get out of the car. She was not sure she wanted to.

"Everyone out." Slade let go of Moira's arm.

"This is your favorite place in Starling City?" The disgust that lined Thea's tone reflected on her upturned nose.

"Trust me."

Moira exchanged a glance with her daughter. They both exited the car. Moira again felt her age as she attempted to wiggle out of the low lying seat.

Slade exited on Moira side of the car and held out his hand to Thea. She tossed him the keys and he caught them with exact precision. He locked the car and then took Moira's hand. Thea watched the interaction but Moira could not read her expression in the darkness.

He led them to a door on the backside of an old brick building. The dumpsters nearby reeked of rotten fish. Without letting go of Moira's hand he used his keys to unlock the door.

"Your car impresses me Wilson, but this? Nope."

Slade grinned at Thea. He pushed open the door.

"After you."

Thea shook her head and cautiously stepped inside. Slade followed, and pulled Moira along with him. The inside of the building was pitch black. Moira was completely dependent on Slade to guide her.

Moira heard a thud.

"Ouch!" Thea stopped somewhere in front of them. "Can't you turn on the lights?" From the way her voice carried, Moira sensed they were in a warehouse of some sort.

"It will ruin the affect."

They kept moving, and a pale blue glow appeared from around a wall. Thea reached the threshold first. The blue light illuminated her body. Her mouth dropped. Moira narrowed her eyes, trying to read Thea's expression. She squeezed Slade's hand.

Thea turned to them, and the bright beam brought on by driving the car appeared again.

"Awesome!" She stepped into the glow and disappeared behind the wall. Moira put her hand on Slade's shoulder as they turned the corner.

Enormous tanks of sea-life lined each side of the warehouse. The glow from the florescent lights made the yellows, oranges, and blues come to life in high definition.

"My pet project. The Starling City Aquarium. Not open to the public yet." Slade leaned close to Moira.

"It will be a hit!" Thea was already halfway across the warehouse. She made a bee line for the glass that enclosed the dolphins.

Slade and Moira strolled down the aisle slowly. He stopped at each tank and studied the aquatic life with a child-like wonder.

"The sea has always fascinated me."

Moira watched a group of sea-horses swim above squiggly stands of moss.

"Why is that?"

"When you spend as much time with it as I have you learn to respect its dangers and appreciate its beauty."

Moira studied the lines of his face. She wondered how he got his scars.

"You do have secrets, don't you?"

He turned his eye away from the tank.

"No more than you, Moira."

She half smiled and broke the gaze.

Thea was on the other side of the warehouse, looking at the jellyfish tank.

"This is really beautiful. Thank you."

Slade stopped and turned to her. He let go of her hand and touched her face.

"I want you to know, I will stand by you, no matter what happens."

Moira stiffened. The statement confirmed that he had heard her conversation with Walter.

"I can take care of myself."

Slade drop his hand from her face and ran his fingers down her arm.

"I know. That's what makes you sexier than the fish tanks."

Moira laughed.

"Oh, sexier than a fish tank, what a compliment."

Slade kissed her but she only half enjoyed the sensation. She was not sure she wanted Thea to see just how involved she had become with Slade.

"Get a room!" Thea's teasing voice echoed across the warehouse. Slade ended the kiss with laughter. He left Moira's side and approached the young woman.

"What do you think, Thea? Impressed now?"

"The jury is still out, Wilson, but... Not a bad start." She playfully hit his shoulder with her fist.

"Just so you know, I have mostly honorable intentions toward your mother."

Moira shook her head. He took things too far and too fast. Thea blinked a few times but the shock seemed to wear off.

"If you break her heart, I will have my brother beat you up."

Slade glanced between the two of them. He looked as pleased as the cat the swallowed the canary.

"I can't ask for a better deal than that."

Moira put her hand on her daughter's arm.

"Alright you two, stop talking about me in the third person."

"Mom, come look at the dolphins." The way Thea pulled on Moira sleeve took her back ten years. Thea was a little girl again. A girl with complete trust in her parents.

Moira mouthed the words _thank you_ to Slade. He inclined his head. For the first time in years Moira felt surrounded by a family that was whole and complete.


	4. Chapter 4

_Okay, so I lied about Felicity and Oliver in this chapter but I will get there eventually. This is mainly a story about Moira and Slade but I do have to satisfy the Olicity shipper in me :)_

_Leave a review if you would like... Thanks for reading!_

* * *

Moira rested her head on the cushion. The ice in the glass stung her fingers. She ignored the chill. She closed her eyes. For five minutes she needed to breathe. Thoughts of the campaign whirled in her head. The long hours caught up with her at the end of the day.

Earlier today Oliver stood in the doorway at campaign headquarters. The burgundy walls caught the light in such a way that her son appeared to her like some Grecian status. His chiseled featured radiated an angelic glow. He had come to talk.

Moira sipped from the glass. Her eyes remained closed. Her head felt heavy as she sank deeper into fabric of the sofa.

She knew he wanted to talk because his eyes pleaded with her. She wondered if he knew how much the youthful plea in his expression affected her. When Oliver was a child Moira had been incapable of telling him no. Her solution to her lack of disciplinary skill was to ignore her children until they forgot about whatever issue seemed pressing. She employed the same tactic at campaign headquarters.

She lifted the cold glass to her lips again. Moira remembered reaching for a stack of documents, answering phone calls, and arranging appointments while Oliver stood patiently in the doorway. Eventually he disappeared. In order to pacify her anger at her actions, she rationalized his reasons. He had only come to quarrel. He wanted to reprimand her. He wanted to stop her campaign.

In order to swallow the image of his broad shoulders shrinking toward the exit she needed the drink and the five minutes of peace.

Oliver's was not the only company she missed. A week passed since her last date with Slade. She remembered her brief encounters with his skilled touch. The knots in her shoulders loosened at the thought. She felt herself giving into her growing attachment to him. She wondered if...

A loud noise jolted Moira upright. Liquid from the glass spilled on her hand.

She avoided dripping on the couch and set the glass on the coffee table. When she stepped into the hallway she saw Roy. He raced toward the stairs.

"Roy? What is it?"

He stopped. Hard jawed and tensed, he looked away.

"Is Thea home?"

Moira studied him. He looked almost exactly like Oliver when Oliver was upset.

"Yes. What is the matter?"

He glared at her with such intensity she took a step back. Roy bounded up the stairs two at a time. Moira followed. She ascended each step with deliberation. If this was a dispute between Thea and her boyfriend then Moira wanted to keep her distance.

Moira reached the door to Thea's room. She faintly detected the sound of the TV. The rest was silence. She peered around the corner. Roy and Thea stood a few feet apart. The glow of the TV cast a spell over them. Both stood frozen in its light. Thea's legs gave out and she sat on the bed.

"What is going on?" Moira's question broke the trance. Roy watched her from under deep lines in his brow. Thea's eyes glistened with tears. Moira stepped into the room. The voice of the newscaster on the TV continued its unemotional dialogue.

"The Queen family doctor has admitted to being paid hush money to keep the identity of Thea Queen's biological father a secret. Thea Queen's father is the late business tycoon Malcolm Merlyn."

The newscaster went on to discuss the fall of the Glades and Merlyn's involvement. Moira's world went numb long before. Everything vanished but Thea's face. Her daughter closed her eyes.

"Thea..." Moira lifted her hand. She wanted to reach out to her daughter but she stopped. Thea's eyes opened.

"Is it true?"

Moira said nothing. The sound of the TV news broke the silence between the three of them. Thea nodded, her lips pressed together. She exhaled then went to the closet and pulled out a suitcase.

"Roy, would you mind if I stayed with you for a while?"

Roy helped Thea lift the suitcase to the bed. Thea unzipped the case and started piling clothes inside. Moira moved toward her, but Roy blocked her path. The wildness in his eyes would have frightened the average woman. Moira was not average.

"Thea. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to hate me."

Thea's body moved rhythmically, like an assembly line comprised of a single person. She pulled clothes out of the drawer, turned mechanically, and set them in the empty space. The process repeated.

"Too late for that."

She paused in her task and looked at Moira.

"I do hate you. I don't know if I will ever be able to forgive you."

Moira lifted her hand but Roy's physical presence warned her away. Part of her admired his loyalty. If her daughter did have to run, Moira took some comfort in knowing Thea ran to Roy.

"It was a mistake. You know that. It doesn't mean I love you any less."

Thea paused with an armful of blouses.

"You cheated on dad. You lied to all of us. Then you didn't have the courage to tell me yourself."

"I didn't know it would come out like this."

"Please, mother. You paid off the doctor!"

Thea dropped the clothes.

Moira put a hand to her temple. The headache she almost suppressed returned with a vengeance. Thea zipped up the bulging bag and Roy picked it up.

"Oliver knows, doesn't he? That's why he isn't speaking to you."

Roy used the suitcase as a weapon to push past Moira. Thea followed him. Moira took advantage of the change position and latched onto Thea.

"I understand you need some time, but we need to talk about this."

Thea ripped her arm away from Moira. The tears on her cheeks were tears of a mature woman, not a silly teenage girl.

"Robert isn't my father. As far as I'm concerned you are not my mother. Your daughter, Thea, just died."

In her life, Moira had dealt with terrible men, like Malcolm Merlyn, and in due course took part in extremely upsetting situations. No cold, wicked statement from anyone hit her with force equal to Thea's words. The sound of them came with an arctic blast that froze every part of Moira's being.

She did not know how long she stood in the hallway after Roy and Thea left. Her entire body went numb save for the pounding of her headache. At some point she drug her body to the bed. From out of a fog the pictures and sounds from the TV broke through to her consciousness.

"This tip came from an inside source at Queen Consolidated, but we have been unable to reach Oliver Queen's executive assistant, Felicity Smoak, for comment."

Moira blinked. A picture of the blond IT girl flashed across the screen.

"No. That is too far, Felicity." Moira felt a renewed sense of purpose. She looked at the clock. The IT girl was most likely still at work.

* * *

Moira did not remember leaving the house, getting in her car, or driving down town. She was in such a blinding rage that until the elevator doors opened to the executive suite at Queen Consolidated she forgot where she was.

Although Moira Queen did not realize it, there were few sounds with in the halls of Queen Consolidated that struck as much fear as the click of high heels on the tiled floor. Employees darted behind cubicles and raced toward water coolers like citizens reacting to the emergency broadcast system. Other women at Queen Consolidated wore high heels, but none of them created the distinct click. The steady tap belonged only to Moira Queen. Everyone knew when they heard that sound someone was about to be humiliated, ruined, crushed or unemployed.

Felicity must have heard the sound because her dark framed glasses peaked over the top of her computer monitors. Moira watched her eyes drop out of sight. She increased her pace. The click reverberated off the glass walls that lined the hallway. Moira did not slow her stride when she reached the doorway. She did not even slow when she reached Felicity's desk. She leaned forward and spread her arms. The fabric of her designer jacket bunched at the shoulders. Felicity swallowed.

"Mrs. Queen, I just called Oliver. I swear I didn't-"

"You. Are. Fired. Get out."

Felicity melted into the chair. Moira leaned over her, and used sheer physical presence to deliver the blow.

"With due respect, Mrs. Queen, you can't fire me. I work for Oliver."

Moira inhaled deeply. Her eyes fluttered closed. She held the breath and slowly forced her eyes back open.

"Ms. Smoak, let me be perfectly clear. I was willing to let your loyalty to my son slide, but you just crossed the line. Not only will you never work for my family again, you will never work anywhere in this city. If you stay in Starling, I will personally rip from you every strand that makes up your insignificant life."

Felicity Smoak rose from her chair. Her head lifted with the impertinence of an Elizabeth Bennett. Moira was forced to straighten her posture to keep Felicity from towering over her.

"I take that threat seriously, Mrs. Queen, because I am one of the few people in this city who still believes you are a murderer."

The child might as well have physically slapped Moira across the face. She was the only person who dared speak those words. Knowing most people thought it and hearing it verbalized were two different things.

Moira picked up the phone on Felicity's desk.

"This is Moira Queen. Please send security to the executive suite. Ms. Smoak would like to be escorted out."

The receiver slammed back into place. Felicity opened a drawer and pulled out a small purse. She tugged her coat over her shoulders.

"You can falsely accuse me all you want because we both know it was your own bad decisions that cost you the respect of Oliver and Thea."

Nothing stung so much as truth. The IT girl had a knack for zeroing in on it. Moira lifted her chin.

"A word of advice, Felicity. If you are afraid someone might kill you, don't ask for it."

Felicity dropped her eyes.

"Is everything alright, Mrs. Queen?" Moira did not turn to see the security guard. She kept her focused narrowed on the IT girl.

"Ms. Smoak was just leaving."

Felicity hoisted the strap of her purse onto her shoulder. Moira watched as she rounded the desk. The security guard might have motioned but Moira did not see with her back turned.

A flash of light caught Moira's attention. In the window across the room she saw the reflection of a hooded figure. The green hood and pointed arrow could only belong to one person. Moira's eyes traced the aim of the arrow. The taunt bow flooded her senses with familiarity.

Reflex took over. Maternal instincts had always been strong in Moira. The child of an enemy could have been standing in front of her and she would have reacted the same way.

She shoved Felicity as hard as she could. The IT girl stumbled backwards over the desk chair and crashed to the ground. The silent deliverer of death sliced through the air. Sharp metal tore through the fabric of Moira's sleeve and across her flesh. The shot clearly meant for Felicity struck the wall near the security guard. The guard drew his gun and shot at the window.

Bullets lodged in the glass. The impact created a web of fractures. Moira covered her wound with her hand. Warm liquid soaked between her fingers. The reflection of the Arrow disappeared. The guard called for backup. He raced out of the room but Moira knew his pursuit was in vain. The Arrow was a phantom.

"Mrs. Queen, are you okay?" Felicity reached for the edge of the desk.

Moira looked at her upper arm. Blood stained the expensive fabric. She cursed.

"You saved my life?" The shock on Felicity's face was almost comical.

"It was the vigilante. Over there." Moira gestured toward the now vanished reflection in the window. Felicity pulled Moira's hand away from the wound.

"You will need stitches. You better see a doctor." The assurance in the IT girl's tone raised Moira's curiosity but not enough to last more than a fleeting second.

"He tried to kill me once, now it looks like he's after you. Why?"

The IT girl averted her eyes. Moira knew she was hiding something.

The security guard returned to the room.

"He got away. I will call the police."

"No!" Moira turned over her shoulder. "No police. I've had enough media intrusion today."

Felicity and the guard exchanged glances.

"You stay and clean up the mess," Moira told the guard then looked at Felicity, "You drive me to the hospital and we'll pretend this never happened."

"Does that include the part about you firing me?" Felicity pulled keys from her purse, but the action did not disguise the hope in her eyes. Moira thought it odd the girl was more concerned over losing her job than finding her attacker.

"Absolutely not."

The keys clinked together as Felicity took Moira by the elbow and helped her to the door. Moira resented the action. The guard attempted to pull the arrow from the wall. They left him to his task.

* * *

The ride to the hospital was uncomfortable and not because Moira's arm throbbed. Awkward silence filled the space between the miles of congested traffic.

"I hate that we have to involve doctors. The chances of the media finding out…"

"I could do it." Felicity looked straight ahead, her eyes focused on the road. "Stitch you up, I mean."

"You know how to stitch?"

Felicity tilted her head from one side to the other a few times. The action seemed to exaggerate her struggle with whether or not to reveal the information.

"Yes." Felicity turned to Moira. "I will do it if you give me my job back."

Moira shrugged. She let her shoulders fall from the tensed position. Her released tension made her realize how appealing she found the idea of avoiding the hospital.

"You will never work in Starling again. Get used to the idea."

Felicity smirked.

"I will, however, agree not to look into why the Arrow wanted to kill you."

Felicity turned off the path to the hospital. Moira inwardly smiled at her own cleverness.

"You can negotiate your way around anything, can't you?"

"That is what life is about, Ms. Smoak."

Felicity drove the car into a deserted parking lot. She got out, went to the trunk and then opened the passenger side door. Felicity retrieved disinfectant, medical thread, and latex gloves from a lock box.

"You are full of surprises."

The IT girl did not take her eyes from the task at hand.

"I believe in being prepared."

Moira peeled off her jacket and Felicity went to work. As she weaved the thread through Moira's torn flesh she rambled.

"I really didn't call the media. Oliver is looking into it right now. He will prove me innocent and then you will owe me an apology. I must admit I'm looking forward to hearing it."

Moira studied the girl, and felt that familiar fear she often experienced when she saw so much of her own childhood reflected back at her.

"You are such a naïve fool."

Felicity tied off the stitch and looked at Moira from behind her dark frames.

"You will never end up with my son. Even if you stayed loyally by his side for a hundred years, fate meant him for Laurel Lance. You can't change that."

Felicity inhaled, but Moira could see her words did not have the impact she anticipated.

"You've never loved anyone. If you had, you would know the rest doesn't matter."

"That is where you are naïve. The rest _always_ matters."

"You know, the thing that sucks about you-"

Moira tossed her hair over her shoulder with a scoff. Felicity's eyes fluttered but she continued.

"-is that you try, but a tiger can't change its stripes."

"Then look on the bright side, you won't be around to worry about it." Moira stared her down until she looked away. Felicity bit her lower lip.

"Now, take me back."


End file.
